


It's All About Location

by rufeepeach



Category: Community
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 19:54:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/422615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rufeepeach/pseuds/rufeepeach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes things go right, and it's all soft beds, roses and champagne. But when have things ever gone right for Jeff and Annie?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Theatre

"This is just surreal." Jeff murmured, eyes fixed on the auditorium stage, as the cast of Abed's - already creepy - Study Group movies played out a live version of their sketches. As Abed had explained to them all, in great detail, a few weeks before: it was important to bridge the gap between stage and screen.

That didn't make this any less weird, though, sitting and watching versions of themselves live. Even if they had elected to sit at the back of the theatre, instead of the front row.

"I know what you mean." Annie whispered back from her seat next to him, "I'm just glad they're doing one from last year. No chance of an eerie prediction."

"You can tell when this one's set?" Jeff was surprised, once again, by how much attention Annie payed to the things he just brushed off.

"Of course!" she glanced at him, looking a little put out, and he wondered exactly what heinous thing he'd said this time. "It's the one from around the debate last year. Where Pierce is a genius and Shirley's chased by a werewolf, and…" she trailed off, biting her lip.

"Oh. Right." Did it get warmer? Jeff shifted, awkwardly, "That one." He tried not to remember the other little plot arc from that little movie, and suddenly wished he'd taken Pierce's offer to sit next to him, instead.

Annie, for her part, was no better off. Why had Abed chosen this particular episode of their lives to re-enact? Even if stage-Jeff was no patch on the real thing… point was, it was going to be awkward. She couldn't have sat with Shirley.

"Yeah." She had to say something. She shifted in her seat, pulling her skirt down a little self-consciously, wishing she had worn her black tights today instead of going bare-legged. She felt eyes on her, and glanced up to see Jeff watching her hand move on her thigh, the look in his eyes something darker than she'd seen there in a while. Since the events now reoccurring on stage, in fact.

Jeff couldn't help himself, couldn't tear his eyes away from that expanse of creamy leg, not at all hidden by her short black skirt. Was it his imagination, or were those skirts getting shorter since last year? _Oh, crap_ , she'd caught him looking, her Disney Princess doe-eyes were widening. He thought about getting up to go to the bathroom, then subtly coming back and sitting one seat down, in Abed's reserved place.

Then she licked her lips.

_Fuck._

He was back in that gym, feeling the sudden, unexpected pressure of her lips on his, soft and wet and willing. Of course he'd dropped that City College guy, how could he not? His body had been all too ready to grab her around the waist, hoist her onto the table and have his way with her right then and there.

Jeff felt his lips curve up a little into his trademark smirk, and was gratified to see her pupils dilate. Little Annie Edison was thinking along the same lines he was, he was certain of it.

Annie had seen that smirk before, and thought she knew what it meant. Her blood all rushed at once to do a happy, warming little dance at her pelvis, and she shivered as the smirk widened.

She tried to bite back a little squeak of surprise as his hand replaced hers on her leg, radiating warmth deep down into her skin, warming the blood rushing faster and faster in her veins.

"Do you remember that day?" He muttered, and she could have sworn his hand moved a fraction of an inch higher, brushing her hemline.

"The debate?" she kept her voice steady, and was proud of herself for it.

"Mm hmmm," Jeff nodded, and this time his fingers definitely shifted higher, under her skirt, to trace little questing patterns on the inside of her thigh. She tried not to squirm, but she couldn't help the little tremor of desire that rushed through her.

"Wh-" she swallowed, "What about it?"

His eyes returned to the stage, the picture of cool concentration, but his fingers had moved higher, until they brushed on her underwear, finding the little wet patch already growing there. She could see his profile grin, a wide, smug grin, knowing what reaction he'd caused.

"You decided that, to win, you had to kiss me." He leaned back further in his seat, his fingers now brushing up and down her pussy through the soaked fabric of her knickers. Her eyes fluttered closed, the blood pumping in her ears hot and fast.

"What're you doing?" she murmured, pleased she could get any words out at all.

"Finishing what you started, a year ago." he finally looked back at her, eyebrow raised, "Want me to stop?"

"No…" she gasped as his fingers found her clit and started to rub, "Really, really no." Her head lolled back, her legs spread a little wider, "God…" his fingertips spiraled around her aching pussy, applying some more pressure, and she felt the tension coil tighter and tighter inside her, until she thought she'd explode if he didn't get inside her soon.

He looked back at the performance, as pretend-Shirley was chased through a library by real-Troy in a werewolf mask.

"What _do_ you want?" his fingers had stopped for the moment, and refused to continue their ministrations.

_Bastard!_ Annie cursed in her mind, incapable of actual speech. She tried to formulate a coherent sentence.

Jeff, aware of the flushed state of the girl next to him, just grinned some more. He didn't know why this seemed so appropriate to do right now, here, in the back of the auditorium. Maybe it was the miniskirt, or the fact she'd worn her hair down today, or the aftermath of the pen incident the week before.

Maybe he was just a dirty old man. He pushed that thought down with a filthy smirk, _not too old yet_.

"Touch me…" he heard her whisper finally, and the grin widened. He turned to her fully, glad it was so dark in the theatre, and pulled his coat so it covered most of her and his left arm. He looked deep into her eyes, forcing her to maintain eye contact, as his fingers slipped from the centre of her drenched underwear and around, under, to explore the aching flesh beneath.

"Ah!" she moaned, and he clamped his hand hand over her mouth, glancing hastily around. No one had looked in their direction. Dark it may be, but they still couldn't get away with any noise.

"Keep quiet." he growled into her ear, and felt her shudder all over. He slipped two fingers inside of her, and twisted them slowly around, feeling how wet she was for him, how hot and tight she was. He had to clamp down on a groan, as he imagined being completely sheathed in that warm wetness.

_Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh GOD!_ A stream of expletives and nonsense ran through Annie's brain, as he started to pump his fingers in and out of her, added a third, went faster and faster, until she felt the tension boil and twist in her belly, so close to coming that her eyes closed of their own accord.

He slowed down, three fingers thrusting slowly in and out of her dripping pussy, until she opened her eyes to look deeply into his.

She caught a glance at the stage, the people in the rows in front of them. Jeff Winger was fingering her, in public, two seats down from the rest of the study group, as their actor-doubles kissed on stage.

It was wrong, and sudden, and unplanned, and so deliciously _naughty_.

Then he moved his thumb upwards, to rub firmly against her clit, and Annie came undone. She writhed and shook, riding his hand through her blinding orgasm, until, sweating and breathing heavily, she relaxed, boneless, into her chair.

He cautiously removed his hands from between her legs and her mouth, and, with her eyes still on him, sucked his left hand fingers clean, filthy, self-satisfied smirk never leaving his face.

Annie thought she might come again, just from that sight.

"What brought that on?" she asked, once she'd caught her breath.

He shrugged, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, "Just wanted to show you what you could have won if you hadn't stopped kissing me."


	2. Library

It had been two days since the incident in the theatre, and Jeff was almost certain he'd imagined the whole thing. Mainly because Annie hadn't said a word about it since that night.

They hadn't had a chance to follow up on his plans to whisk her away back to his apartment, mainly due to the machinations of their friends. Shirley'd insisted upon driving Annie and Britta home, and the next morning they hadn't had a moment to talk in private.

That he could understand. He just didn't get why she wouldn't talk to him after that, either. Jeff had spent the whole day before becoming more and more distracted, annoyed, worried, frustrated… any negative emotion Ian Duncan could name, Jeff Winger had in spades.

But not this morning. This morning all that bad feeling was replaced by something far warmer and more confused. This morning, she had come to sit next opposite him in the library, in the secluded spot he'd chosen to hide from a Chang-attack, and sat so close that their knees - hers bare for the first time since the theatre - could brush under the table. So that every time she turned her head - which she did every five seconds, it seemed - he could smell her shampoo.

It was maddening. And somehow, it felt like she was enjoying it.

Jeff focused hard on the Anthropology textbook in front of him, discovering that, for the first time ever, studying had a useful purpose: distracting him from the girl just a few feet away, looking all innocent and studious in her button-down white blouse and short black skirt. Did she know he had a thing for sexy librarians?

Glancing across and seeing that he was firmly focused on his work, Annie smiled to herself and slipped one black ballet flat off, extending her leg towards his to brush her toes against his hard calf muscle. She repressed a pleased grin when the muscle jump and twitch, when she heard him take a deeper breath to hide a gasp.

How did she manage to cause such an effect in him? She wasn't snarky and experienced like Britta or mature and grown-up sexy like Professor Slater. And yet, somehow, all she had to do was play a little footsie and Jeff Winger's breath caught. It baffled her, and caused a little thrill of power to run down her spine.

She had spent the day before trying to get up the guts to go confront him about it all. It didn't seem fair to play with her like this: kiss her, then say she was too young; drive off Rich then say he didn't know if he wanted her; finger her in the theatre then not say a word the next day. She wondered if maybe she should let it go, act cold and aloof and grown-up, try to gain some distance and control over herself.

Then again: revenge would be far more fun. She played student, deeply engrossed in her textbook, chewing on a pencil. She sensed him look up, see her concentration, then turn back to his work. She tried not to smile when she heard another little surprised breath: her toes were stroking themselves up and down his calf, from the back of his knee to the top of his ankle. She heard him swallow again, and felt his eyes on her.

Jeff stared at her for a moment: Annie was still sat, the picture of concentration, pencil sliding between her lips, in and out. He swallowed again, harder this time, brain going to a rather hot, dark, dirty place, just watching that pencil slide in and out of that warm, wet little mouth. She would have looked innocent, except for the secret little smug smile curving her lips.

_Minx!_

His breath hitched again as her foot raised higher, around the back of his knee, up the inside of his thigh. She never looked up, not for a second as her toes brushed higher and higher, finally rubbing against his steadily hardening cock.

Jeff groaned, and Annie's smirk became even more pronounced.

"Annie?" he tried to contain another groan, "Wha-What're you doing?"

She looked up, pseudo-innocent, "I don't know what you're talking about."

She pressed harder, and Jeff clamped his thighs shut around her foot, trapping it there, "You know what I'm talking about." he deliberately ground against her foot, and her eyes widened. "You know what they say about playing with fire…" his threw her his dirtiest smirk, and watched her eyes dilate.

That was just unfair: one downright filthy glance from him, and her brain short-circuited. She extracted her foot, slowly, drawing out its path down his leg, then ran her hand through her hair to loosen it around her face. She closed her book, rose to her feet, and very deliberately went to replace it on a shelf right above Jeff's head.

She reached up, over his head, putting the book back on a very high shelf. He saw her shirt ride up just a little to reveal a strip of pale stomach, right over his face, and his smile widened. He leaned forward, and licked a line across that patch of skin, feeling the flesh shudder under his tongue. Then, just to be mean, he blew along the wet line, causing her to shiver.

Annie felt her knees buckle just as Jeff's large, warm hands gripped her hips, and hoisted her firmly onto his lap. To her credit, she adapted quickly to the position, glad they'd picked the larger chairs at the back of the room to do this on as she placed her knees on the outside of his hips, straddling his lap.

"Well, hello there." she grinned down at him, and nearly moaned just from the smirk on his face. She sat down a little further, squirming to make herself comfortable, and felt something rock-hard and unmistakable press up to meet her, "Someone's happy to see me." she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Ignore him, everything you do makes him happy." he muttered this last, and Annie felt her smile widen.

"Hmm, is that so?" she giggled, and shifted again to press on the bulge in his jeans. His eyes fluttered closed, his mouth slackened.

It was official: Annie in control definitely turned him on. And he was okay with that, so long as she didn't stop shimmying her hips just there…

He groaned, loudly. Annie glanced about, all of a sudden aware of where they were and what they were doing. Why couldn't this stuff ever happen in an appropriate setting? Why did there always have to be people around?

She leaned in, lips right next to his ear, and whispered, "Keep quiet."

He shuddered, felt himself grow even harder at her repetition of his earlier command. The whole scene of a confident, slightly domineering, smiling Annie straddling his lap was very much to his liking.

She glanced down, then back up again, biting her lip with a wicked little smirk that suddenly made him both nervous and excited all at once. Then she was working his belt buckle, then the button and zipper of his jeans, and a moment later there he was, exposed in the Greendale library, his cock wrapped in the hot, clever little hands of Annie Edison. He let his head slide back as, with more expertise than he had expected, she ran her hands up and down his shaft, eyes fixed on his face the whole time.

Annie suppressed a little giggle of triumph, drunk on control. This was the best possible retaliation: reducing Jeff Winger to the same hot mess he'd made of her just a few days before. Made brave and far, far too curious, she experimentally ran one palm down his shaft, into his pants, and cupped his balls, giving them a tentative little squeeze.

"Guuuuuuh…" he exhaled, groaning, and Annie frowned at how loud he was. This was about proving who was in control here, and that wasn't allowed. She leaned into his ear again, and murmured, "I told you to be quiet. Make another sound and I'll get up and leave."

Jeff's eyes flew open at that, more turned on than he had thought possible. He imagined that that was sort of the point. Her eyes narrowed at him, warningly, her hands stopped still, and he nodded.

"Good." she muttered, and went back to work, one hand pumping his shaft, the other one moving between rubbing the tip and squeezing his balls. His hips thrusted into her hands, his own hands squeezed her hips with every movement of her palms.

"One… problem…" he gasped out, and sent her a look that made her stop for a second.

"What?" she cocked her head to one side in a motion that was just too cute for words, a little frown furrowing her brow. She suddenly looked so sweet, so gorgeous in a completely different kind of way, that an entirely new warmth started to build in his stomach. "Am I doing something wrong?"

"No! No, this is - this is great, just gonna be making a mess sometime pretty soon, if you keep doing such a great job."

At which point, Annie did something that Jeff was entirely unprepared for. She grinned, that same evil, sexy grin he'd never seen before today and hoped would come again, "Oh, I know." She removed her hands from his pants, braced them on both sides of the chair, and pushed herself down so she was knelt between his feet.

And then, to Jeff's utter surprise and complete delight, started to enthusiastically suck him off.

There was no need for commands for silence now - Jeff was too far gone and too shocked even to form the necessary vowel sounds.

Annie, for her part, was now running on a heady mix of lust, adrenaline, and pure impulse. She wasn't the scared little almost-virgin she'd been last year at the STD Awareness day. She'd dated Vaughn since, who had been pretty experienced himself: she could handle Jeff Winger better than he would expect. She even found she was enjoying the experience - he was bucking his hips forwards unconsciously, fucking her mouth as she ran her tongue over him.

She swiveled her tongue around his tip, experimentally curling it to surround him.

 _FUUUUUCK!_ Jeff's brain had been reduced to screaming obscenities, as his whole body stiffened and he came into her mouth.

She grinned when he was done, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She wouldn't want to do that too often, but the look of stunned adoration on his face was more than enough consolation. She moved back, and scooted back up into her own chair, returning to the same position they'd started in.

Then she picked up her backpack, swung it onto her shoulders, and sauntered around the table. As she passed him, she leaned down and murmured, "You can speak now."

"Um…" Jeff had to admit, for the first time in a long while, he was utterly speechless. She gave one last little gurgle of laughter, which sounded far more knowing and womanly than she had any right to sound, and strolled away.

"Damn."


	3. Study Room

He watched her saunter out, somehow her _back_ managed to look smug. She'd pulled one over on him, had him completely at her mercy. And she knew it.

He'd been waiting for her to make the first move, he just didn't expect for her to be so fucking _good_ at it. And now she was walking away, giving him no chance to retaliate. Well, he couldn't stand for that.

He jumped up out of his chair... Then he realised that he was exposed to the whole Greendale library, all five of them, who, thank God, were all engrossed in their studies, and sorted himself out.

And promptly chased her out of the door, down the corridor, and into the study room. She wasn't expecting him: the look on her face when he grabbed her shoulder showed that she had imagined him sitting in the Library, dumbfounded. She had probably hoped the other members of the study group would have arrived before he pulled himself together.

She'd forgotten that no one else was always half an hour early.

"What was that?" He didn't mean it to sound angry, but frustration made it come out that way.

"What was what?" She shot him her Bambi-eyes, all innocence. He just stared at her, trying to figure her out.

He heard her breath quicken, saw her eyes dart down to his mouth and back again. Then she licked her lips.

He didn't question further. He'd realised something: despite all that had happened between his impulse in the theatre and them staring each other down here and now, he hadn't kissed her. Actually, he had never kissed her: she always kissed him.

He reached up, placed one hand on the base of her skull, threading his fingers through her hair, and put the other one in the small of her back, and pulled so her whole body was pressed against his.

He felt her gasp, felt her bones mould and melt to fit against his, and then he was pressing his mouth against hers, and she was kissing him back, their tongues stroking and moving between them, each trying to elicit the stronger response from the other.

Jeff figured he'd won when he felt Annie's knees give out. He broke their kiss to catch her, realising he was holding her upright. He looked down, saw her eyes half-closed, her face flushed. He was hit by that same desire he'd felt in the theatre, he wanted to see just how long he could keep her looking like that.

But the growing situation in his pants was telling him clearly that this wasn't the time for that.

So, instead, he ducked down and scooped Annie up in his arms, causing a shocked little squeak and then a contented sigh, and hurried over to the couches. He realised the table was probably an easier choice, but memories from last years' paintball made that… inappropriate, to say the least.

Yeah, he thought, because sleeping with a girl half my age in the middle of college, when company is expected any time soon, is so much better.

He deposited Annie on one of the couches, and stopped for a moment to admire the view of her lying there, skin flushed, chest rising and falling faster and harder than normal, and all because of him.

Then he was on top of her, and that surprised little noise came again.

"What did you expect me to do?" He asked, as he started kissing and nibbling her collar bone, and working at his belt buckle.

"I - I don't know-" She gasped, trying to remember how those word-things worked, "Wasn't expecting the - ah!" he had pressed two fingers between her legs, and started pulling her underwear out of the way, "The - full-body tackle…"

"Sorry," he grinned at her, utterly unrepentant, "Desperate times, you know."

"Desperate, yeah…" she made this little mewing noise that had him moving even faster, if possible, and shifted her hips to get him closer to where she needed him, "About that…"

Then he was struck with an alarming thought, "I don't... have anything"

A secret little smile flashed across her face, and she reached down to a pocket in her skirt, pulling out a foil-wrapped condom.

He raised an eyebrow, "Any reason you're so prepared?"

She mimicked his expression, "Jeff, you know me. I throw myself at you in the library, and you think I wasn't prepared?"

He smirked and took the little foil packet, finally navigating his jeans, and freeing himself.

When he was done, he moved forward, his face now level with hers, and slipped himself inside her, inch by inch, mirroring her sob of pleasure with a deep groan.

"I am sorry, though," He grunted once he was fully sheathed inside her.

"For what?" she whispered, between pants, as he started to move, feeling her legs wrap around his hips and her hands tangle in his hair.

"For -" he grunted again, and kissed down the side of her neck. She was more gorgeous now than she'd ever been, wrapped around him, sweaty and disheveled, mewing and moaning into his ear, "For letting this take so long." He finally managed to bite out, feeling himself moving towards that edge with every thrust inside her, every clench of her slick, wet walls around his aching cock.

"You were _so_ worth the wait." She whispered into his ear, making him shiver, then groan as she ran her tongue around the shell and tugged the lobe with her teeth.

"Stop - stop that." He panted.

"Why?" she had a sly smile on her lips, now, like she had in the library, and he thrust in extra hard, rotating his hips, just to get rid of that smile.

Not because it wasn't the sexiest thing he'd ever seen: because if she kept looking like that, he was going to come in within seconds, and he wanted her to go first.

He registered the way her eyes had rolled back in her head, the new, whimpering noise she'd made from that, and grinned like a demon, repeating the motion.

"Like that?" He raised an eyebrow, back in control.

"Uhhhh," an emphatic nod, her eyes stayed closed.

He slipped a hand down between them, and started to rub her clit in time with his thrusts. "Just let go, Annie," his voice was getting hoarse, as he felt his own climax coming on, "Come for me…"

She let out a high-pitched, strangled wail, and her walls clenched like a vice around him, throbbing as she rode out her orgasm. He followed soon after, pumping into her erratically, his rhythm broken as he came inside her.

Finally, they were both done, and he slipped out of her. She fumbled on the floor for where he'd dropped her underwear, while he pulled a tissue from his pocket and sorted himself out, glad of the wastepaper bin at the end of the sofa.

"Alright?" He smiled down at her, feeling happier than he had in months.

"Better." She broke into the widest grin he'd ever seen, and he had to lean down and kiss her again.

He sat up and jumped to his feet, extending a hand down to her, "Milady?"

Her smile was beatific, as she took his hand and let him help her to her feet, "Milord."


End file.
